Not-A-Disney-Story
by Midori Aoi
Summary: You could say it's their self-righteousness, stubbornness, idiocy, whatever pretty word you want to call it. Whatever it was, these two were similar, but on such different parts of the social ladder, it's almost freaking Disney when they met. You know, except without the love-at-first-sight shit people like to eat up when sitting down for an animated musical. Eren x Historia
1. Prelude, Prologue, Whatever

_Well if no one is going to write it, I will._

* * *

It was the sort of thing no one could've predicted.

No, seriously. Like at all.

I know what you're thinking: _Seriously, there are a lot of stories and retellings that start off this way. Harr harr. _But, you see, this is different. Because, ask yourself, of all the people in the world that Eren would end up in bed with, do you honestly think it would be the saint-like Historia Reiss?

Perhaps in some kind of weird universe where multi-verse theory can permit, but certainly not this one. I know, I know, even _I'm _sort of vexed on how it happened and I'm the one writing the whole damn thing out! But putting meta aside, let's cover some ground and try to figure out how this sort of thing happened.

Eren Jaeger. Nineteen years old. Five foot six, brunet, green eyed, cocky little bastard and self-proclaimed vigilante street rat. Of course, like all good-natured bad-ass wannabes and tough-guy poseurs, he likes to believe he has a heart of chocolate fucking gold. With sterling curls of diamonds and shiny curvy writing. The whole she-bang (and there is a definite banging that happens).

Historia Reiss. Eighteen years old. Five foot three, blonde, blue eyed, sweet-hearted doll face and prettily introverted. Not to mention the rich kid on the block. She is a beautiful girl and very much to manipulate things to get her way. However, she's not an ill-natured lady. Quite the contrary, she believes she uses her powers for good.

Where do they meet in the middle?

You could say it's their self-righteousness, stubbornness, idiocy, whatever pretty word you want to call it. Whatever it was, these two were similar, but on such different parts of the social ladder, it's almost freaking Disney when they met. You know, except without the love-at-first-sight shit people like to eat up when sitting down for an animated musical.

It wasn't even a deep utter loathing that sparked between them. He saw her. She saw him. And they instantly didn't give two shits about each other.

True romance. (sarcasm)

Of course, when they were brought up in conversation by perspective friends, the common response from both ends was a shrug and a disinterested gleam in the eyes that proved they wanted to talk about more important things. He was busy chasing another blonde's skirt, and she was entirely too transfixed and infatuated by her dark haired and very homosexual math tutor.

If there was any story you knew that would never end in romantic relations of any kind, it was from the end of two very disinterested people. Nevertheless, one ridiculously weird thing lead to another, and the next thing both of them knew was the taste of each other's skin and the cacophony of pleasured moans before the eventual shock of '_what the hell did I just do?' _transpired in the hilarious sort of fashion that came with making a mistake whilst being completely sober.

But I'm jumping to the conclusion here.

So, let's start where any good story starts.

The middle.


	2. December (Or the Middle)

_- December 21_

"Slow… _AH_… Slow down!"

But he didn't slow down. He couldn't possibly slow down. Not when this perfect little doll writhed beneath him, her expression contorting in expressions so exquisitely human, it only made him smirk wickedly above her. "Why…" Eren panted, peering at her through the brown locks falling over his eyes, saw the way the glow from his TV painted her in a different perspective altogether. He found himself loving how much he tore her from her stupid masks, ripped her clean from the proper and prim outfits that esteemed her above him. Loved how he managed to kick her down to his level and see the way she truly _lived_ removed from the pedestal.

"You scared, princess?"

He emphasized this by giving a particularly harsh thrust and she bit her nails deep against his shoulder blades, a delightful scream ripping from her throat as she threw her head back, arching against him. When she looked back down at him, it was with a smirk of her own and she was driving a dainty heel against his lower back, forcing them closer together. Suddenly, he felt her tightening around him and Eren nearly groaned especially loudly. He blinked quickly the pleasure building shadows from his vision, throwing his chin to whip the sweat soaked locks of brown so he could see her better. His eyes landed on the mischief brewing behind her azure orbs, flickering like the static on his television and the way her tongue darted out between her lips.

He felt her squeeze him again and he nearly lost it mid-thrust, his fingers digging harshly against the two-dollar sheets and the material of his cheap bed. One of her hands trailed from his back to grip against the flesh of his rear, he nearly bucked especially hard in surprise when he felt her pinch the sensitive skin.

"You can't handle me," She said in between moans and pants. Eren would have laughed if he wasn't busy growling and ramming his mouth against hers. Historia bucked harder against him and before either knew it they were crying out their release and falling off the futon in his room.

Gasping for breath, Eren let out a grunt when he felt a shoe dig into his back, but stopped moving the moment he heard her shuddering and for a second he panicked. Until he realized she was laughing.

"Oh my…" She giggled, before laughter fully exploded from behind her lips and he couldn't help but close his eyes and chuckled along with her, letting the unexpected sound lift his spirits as well as she brought a soft hand to his chest and gripped to his collarbone, all while letting out peals of amusement and something else that felt light. For the next little eternity, Eren let her giggle above him, their breathing slowing and their euphoria drowning in the spin of endorphin and satisfaction.

"Hey," Her voice filtered to him quietly, with the same trepidation of a whimsical thought. He hummed back in response, fingers trailing well worn roads up and down the curve of her spine and skin. "How do you think we got here?"

The question certainly wasn't a surprise. He had caught himself asking the same thing the last time she had left his skin and all but disappeared behind text messages and overlapping schedules. Still, he couldn't deny the desire to tease her, and get under her skin in other ways that made her cheeks flush and her eyes sharpen over him. "Well, you saw me at the grocery store. I ignored you. Then you cornered me by the cereal isle and proceeded to kiss me so fucking amazingly that I had no choice but to kidnap you to my room."

Her fingers flattened together before smacking lightly against his chest, another series of chuckles blew through his teeth and she was shaking her head. "You know what I mean, jackass."

"I love it when you swear at me," He purred, letting his fingers slide down her side to tease the skin of her lower back. He was rewarded with a shiver. "So… improper."

It was at this point that she propped herself up on her elbows, not caring for his pained groan and the way her joints dug into his chest, before gazing down at him with a very smug expression.

"You know…I win," She said, brushing the lock of golden strands from between her eyes. Eren rolled his eyes.

"Falling off the bed doesn't count," he retorted, rolling green eyes and shifting over so that he could yank the shoe under his back. Historia didn't seemed even slightly fazed by his sudden proximity and countered his little smirk with her own, shoving him down with her hands when he succeeded in removing the source of his discomfort. Eren let out a soft '_oomph'_ when his back met his carpeted floor, and he didn't hesitate to let out a whine when she pushed off his chest. His hands rapidly rose to grab her hips, yet she proved too fast and danced away. "Oi," He called, frowning lightly. "It doesn't count."

"You ended up on your back, as per our rules," She replied, sauntering over to the lit television and turned it off with a graceful bow and twirl. Eren rose to his elbows, watching her lazily as she moved about his darkened room, pouting when she gripped to his curtains. Historia then gave him a mirror image of the grin he had bestown her earlier, complete with her own display of wickedness as she threw the drapes open, letting in the mid-morning sunlight and making him exclaim sharply.

"You freaking vampire," Eren huffed, scrambling to his feet and grabbing her wrist before yanking her out of the sunlight and out of sight. She laughed again and he found himself enjoying the sound.

"Clearly, you've no idea what the word 'vampire' implies." Eren rolled his eyes as he threw her over his shoulder, letting her knees hook around his forearm before guiding them to his shower.

"Oi, cheater!" She exclaimed at him, slapping him firmly on the cheek she had pinched earlier. "I'm the winner, not you!"

"And I fully intend to give you your prize, Mistress Reiss," Eren replied cheekily, pressing a kiss to the side of her bare rear. "I have but the most horrible intentions, and your prize is delightfully covered in them."

"You're disgustingly full of it," She huffed, but he could still hear the smile on her lips before he shut the door behind them and dropped her unceremoniously on the tile. Moments later beneath the onslaught of shower water, she was giggling again and groaning as he pressed his mouth against the peak of her thighs and curls of her desire.

But, as usual, her first question didn't leave him.

It wouldn't leave him for a while… and he wondered vaguely if it mattered how they got to where they were now.


	3. September (Or Just Before the Middle)

It wasn't the typical mindless hook-up that started it all.

To be honest, it wasn't unplanned either. It wasn't a drunk connection, or anything involving the lowering of inhibitions. Only, before I get to the how, I'll start on bits of back story.

I think we've already established that Eren believed himself to be a bad-ass. But, let's be clear here, the most badass thing he's done was climb a tree to save a kid's kite. Well, that wasn't true either. He had gotten into many fights as a young teen, but they usually ended after a swift punch to the nose and a bloody grin. He won all his fights, but fighting other teenagers didn't quite top the list of badass things to do. He wasn't a criminal, so he never bothered soiling his hands ruining other people's business or causing mayhem. He didn't think there was much fun in being an asshole.

In fact, the very day that Eren had been propositioned by Historia, was the day he had kicked a highschool first year in the knee when the brat tried to steal a pack of beer from the local gas station.

She had seen the debacle, and not long after, approached him.

Let's not get crazy here, they already knew each other… and it hadn't been the first time either had entertained the idea.

So, I'll tell you about the first time the thought had crossed their heads—and it was roughly around the same exact time.

* * *

- _September 22_

"You're the poncho guy."

A lit cigarette paused several inches from a pair of lips as green eyes blinked in confusion. When he glanced up she was standing just a few feet away, arms braced against her chest loosely and inadvertently framing the pair of round breasts and curvy figure. It was a long day, had been a very long day and he should have known better than accepting Armin's invitation to Reiner's party, but he would not mind the loss of his cigarette to the humid concrete beneath. Not when he had a pair of blue eyes peering down at him with a hint of curiosity. She was a pretty girl, and something about her face tickled his memory in a way he didn't quite expect. The sound of pounding bass and people laughing was the only thing aside from the casual drizzle of rain that fell around the only two people outside the festivity.

"I beg your pardon?" Blonde eyebrows lifted and a small smile quirked over her lips. Yes, very pretty girl, but his attention had already been caught by another pair of legs and an even more impressive stare.

"Do you? Wow, never thought I'd hear that from a guy so rustic." At this, his brows fell over his eyes in a flat expression before reaching for the pack within his rain sprinkled jacket. "Aren't you going to ask me my name?" Her voice was soft, light, but it also pressed against him like something carrying authority. Like a dainty knife. You know, the decorative kind, but still sharp enough to wound.

"Didn't ask for mine," He replied and flicked his finger against the cardboard, slipping out another slim stick of nicotine and menthol. He pressed the tip between his lips, hands already searching his pockets for a lighter when he saw a pale hand flick a manicured thumb over the flint of an expensive looking lighter. The flame light right against his addiction and the hand disappeared with a click of metal against metal. He looked back up, not bothering to inhale when he realized she was kneeling right next to him, peering those blue eyes beneath a curl of blonde hair.

"I saw what you did," She said, reaching behind her to tug the lighter in the pocket of her skirt. She was dressed in pretty colors, soft pastels that matched the curve of her jaw and natural pucker of her plump lips. Eren felt absolutely nothing arousing about her, but could see why there would be an appeal. His head, rather impressively quick, managed to wrap back to her words after flicking his green gaze over her form.

"Me dropping a cigarette, thanks a lot by the way," He rolled his eyes, snorting through his nose and pulling the stick from his lips.

"You don't smoke," He glanced back up and she was pushing herself back up to her feet. His eyes glanced down the curve of her pale legs before landing on the purple flats. When Eren looked back up, he was nearly blinded by the sunlight behind her head. Dear God.

"I have a lit stick in my mouth that will prove you otherwise," He said, flashing her a humorless smirk with enough teeth to give him his usual cocky edge tone-wise.

To his immense surprise she grinned back, almost the exact same way he did. "You light them but you never breathe in." The hand he had risen to grab the cigarette stopped mid-way, and he nearly kicked himself for letting that much shock filter through his eyes. Her smile turned something a little smugger, amusement twinkling behind her baby blues and making him wonder where the hell she came from.

After a moment, he pulled the cigarette from his lips, letting it hang loosely between his knuckles as he leaned back and stretched his legs out on the asphalt.

"What do you mean 'poncho guy?'" He asked when he noticed she was still standing closely. She didn't respond save with a light shrug of her shoulders, tugged her hands in her soft sweater before turning and walking away.

He watched her leave, shaking his head with a snort before pressing the cigarette between his lips again.

At that moment she had paused from walking inside the threshold of the party a few yards away, chancing a small glance at the sitting young man with a purse of curious lips.

_I wouldn't mind doing that guy._

_I wouldn't mind doing that girl._

* * *

Not long after—with faces remembered—he had been at a gas station picking up a soft drink, she had been sitting bored in the expensive car outside filling up. Historia decided a quick walk would help her clear her head, get the confusing text messages circling in her phone's data out of her head. He spotted the kid trying to sneak a pack of budweiser under a shirt.

She walked in, and the first thing she saw was Eren sticking a foot out and tripping the buzz cut and watching the kid cry out before the beer exploded beneath him. Five minutes later she was watching him with pursed lips, listening to the clerk thank him while Eren held the brat up by the back of the collar and slapping the kid behind the head to apologize.

Historia was waiting outside the door when he walked out, wiggling his prize of a long piece of slim jim.

"Poncho Guy," She said and when Eren turned around it was with a surprised expression. The second his face flattened in an unamused expression she chuckled. "I'd like to ask you something."

"You following me around?" At this, Historia smirked, brushing the lock of blonde that liked to fall between her eyes.

"Wouldn't you like that?" Her footsteps took her closer to him and he tugged his hands within the crumpled fabric of his rain jacket. "My name is Historia."

He frowned at her, unsure how to take her approach. "Eren."

She smiled at him, an actual smile that made his previous irritations fall apart and wonder just a bit. "Nice to meet you."

Then she grabbed him around the collar and pulled him down into an abrupt kiss that made the hair of his head stand on end, but that didn't last long the second she pulled her fingers through his hair in shiver inducing grips that made his knees almost buckle completely. She pulled away, contemplating. He blinked wide green eyes, stunned.

"Yep," She said, "You'll do."

The next thing he noticed was her number being tugged into his jacket pocket and before he could so much as attempt to string a series of words together, he was watching her with his mouth hanging as she sauntered back to her expensive vehicle.

What that was all about… he wouldn't find out until after he called her that same night, or after she had told them to meet. Or after he had agreed and walked down the glistening concrete sidewalk that midnight. Or after he had arrived at a posh looking apartment.

Or after he walked in the apartment and before he could even utter a question, she was pouncing on him with a kiss so mind-boggling he couldn't help but respond. Or after, when she had dragged him by his jacket to a bedroom and yanked the clothing right off his back and pushed on top of him before he could even attempt to form a coherent protest.

It only took him to gain his head before he realized what was happening. The next thing he knew he was pushing her off, asking quickly what the hell was going on. She shrugged, pulled herself off and said quite simply;

"You make me curious. You're not a bad person, I'm a moderately bad person. I want something different."

"Why?"

She shrugged, and he could see something in her eyes that fit more than the doll like demeanor. "Because I'm the daughter of a rich man and you're a street nobody. And I want you."

And he didn't know why it excited him, and he had been dealing with the sharp effects of heart ache. His work had been bothering him, leaving him strained. It had been in that moment that he found himself being curious too. He had been so close too. His shirt had been half-way back over his shoulders when he changed his mind, tossed the material off his skin and kissed her with everything he had.

It was finally after—after the whole insane hot and crazy stranger sex—that the whole thing sank heavy in his chest… and she disappeared after pressing a light kiss to his navel and a dark smile that suited her more than pastels ever could.

Only, there was a certain type of connection I hadn't quite explained yet, and it will be important to know and understand way before the beginning of the story is ever exposed. A connection that is better explored after they shared skin without caring...

A connection that happened when neither was expecting.

And no... it isn't love.

Not yet anyway.


End file.
